Tuesday, December 30, 2014


The lives of the two police officers slain recently in a NYC ambush certainly mattered much more than the dead punks that the angry mobs were out chanting demands for "dead cops" in the name of.
If those idiots want to avoid being killed by the police, well, here's a helpful hint: DO WHAT THE COP SAYS WHEN HE SAYS TO DO IT and you'll be just fine. 
In my life I have had hundreds, even thousands of encounters with the police. These range from "Hello, Officer, nice day, isn't it?" to "Sir, I stopped you because your taillights are out" on through speeding citations, even up to and including - while I was defending myself against a violent assailant - having a cop pull up, get out of his car, draw his Glock and point it at me, and order me to the ground. 
In not one of these encounters have I EVER been killed by the police. Not even once. 
Now all you morons stop chanting in the streets and do something to make your lives matter. Getting a job comes to mind.  

Monday, December 22, 2014


Gentle readers, I had so hoped to offer - as is usually the case - free copies of my most recent novel to all for Christmas.

Alas, the folks at Kindle seem to be grinches. They no longer allow free promotions, just something they call a "countdown deal".

For a countdown deal to be in effect, the book has to be priced higher than the $1.99 I have been charging for my works.
Well, I went and re-priced all my stuff at $7.95 per book. (Which is what a friend who is a professional marketer told me to do a year ago. She said "People don't want to buy a cheap book" blah blah "I know you just want to get your stuff out but..." blah blah blah.
Well, all my stuff is now "priced to sell" at more than three times the original price. They are still great stories and make great presents. (Plus I make $5.60 off each sale instead of seventy measly cents).
Still, I am disappointed I could not get "A Piper for Danny" out for a free promotion this year.
Watch for the upcoming novel "The Resurrection of Sergeant O'Bannon" around (blasphemous? I hope not.) Easter.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014


Gentle Readers, we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop have decided to avoid burdening you further with all the irritating, frustrating, infuriating horrifying sickening things that are going on, at least for today. Instead we present you with a true (well, maybe embellished a little, but mostly true) holiday story that really happened to our Beloved Editor, F. Allen Norman, Jr. Here 'tis, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!
It was Thanksgiving a few years back, I'm thinking probably 2006; and I had spent all night the past night and most of the morning taking people to the airports and other transportation hubs. Myself, I couldn't make it back home that year, so I sought out a place that didn't require reservations and served a banquet with a real turkey. I found one at a corner of northern Old Town Alexandria. I was into my second helping of turkey and fixin's when a family came in and got seated.
One member of the family was a rather rambunctious little lad of about 5 or 6. His mother kept telling him not to run in the restaurant, but he kept it up. The whole scene was making many of the diners a bit uncomfortable, me in part because I thought the kid was going to run headfirst into a table corner or otherwise hurt himself.
Finally I stood up, dressed in my best suit. I addressed the boy's mother: "Madam, if I may, I'd like to have a word with your son" I said.
"Who are you?" she asked quizzically.
"I am Inspector Allen. I'm with the North Pole Police" I replied, looking dead serious.
The mother and everyone in the restaurant caught right on and gasped. "Owen!' the mother said, 'Look! It's an elf!"
Little Owen was awed at how suddenly things had gotten very quiet, and how he was suddenly the center of everyone's attention ... especially this big man who (he thought) was one of Santa's secret police. "Owen' I began, 'Do you know how Santa knows if you've been bad or good?"
Owen just bit his lip and fidgeted.
"Well, Owen, he has his own police force. They might be taxi drivers like me and they might even be the ice cream man in the summer. But we all take notes, and mommies and daddies write to us, too. Now today, just now, I watched you not minding your mom. Owen, let me tell you something."
Owen's eyes began tearing up as I continued: "Now, Owen, Santa knows little boys are going to want to rip and tear and run around. In fact, if little boys didn't like to rip and tear, Santa would be worried. And if you had gotten yourself hurt today, it would have ruined everyone's Thanksgiving; and it would have made Santa very sad. Santa doesn't want little boys to get hurt. That's why you should always listen to your mother when she tells you to sit still."
The kid was on the verge of a full-bore cry as if he were anticipating a whipping. So just before the waterworks began in earnest, I softened my voice and said: "Owen, are you crying because you think I'm going to tell Santa you were bad today?"
He sniffled, choked back a sob, and nodded.
I gave him a thoughtful look. "Okay, Owen, let me tell you what I'm going to do. Now, you're a little kid because you need to learn stuff, right?"
The boy nodded.
"All right, that's right. Learning is what little boys are supposed to do. Now, since I told you why you should mind your mom, did you learn anything?"
Looking bewildered about where I was going with this, Owen nodded again.
"Well, then, if you are supposed to learn, and learning is what you did today, then you did what you are supposed to do. and doing what you're supposed to do is being good"
As Owen's eyes began to clear, I pulled out a pocket New Testament, pretending it was my policeman's notebook. "So', I announced, 'I'm going to write in my report that Owen was GOOD on Thanksgiving!"
I have never seen such a reversal of despair into joy. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU!" he exulted. I told him to remember what he had learned, and returned to my table to a standing ovation from the other adults in the dining room.
I don't know whatever became of young Owen, who is probably 13 or 14 right now. But when I think of Owen's reaction when he realized he had been forgiven, I think of what thankfulness we should all feel as we celebrate the birth of our true Savior this season. Owen's redemption should reflect our own.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


We have several times here expressed our hope that you will be able to prevent the firestorm of racial unrest that will almost certainly result should anything happen to the Current Resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Northwest.
It seems to me that you all were doing a fine job until that bitch of a director was appointed to watch over you and supervise you like a pack of 6th graders.  The other day she said she takes "FULL RESPONSIBILITY" for that nut who got into the White House and ran nuts until one of you - who wasn't even on the clock - stopped him.  IF SHE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DEBACLE WHICH COULD HAVE IGNITED RACE RIOTS IN EVERY CITY IN THE COUNTRY THEN GODDAMMIT SHE SHOULD FUCKING WELL RESIGN!!!!!
If as has been reported the intruder alert was muted at the request of the White House Usher's Office, it was doubtless done either on her orders or because one of you beleaguered SS people feared being reported to Ms. Ballbuster.
Do us a favor, guys. The minute the bitch is gone, turn up that intruder alert loud as a bastard and then test it daily at noon.
And the next time somebody pulls that crap of jumping the fence, let the dogs take a few bites. God knows they've earned it, and so have you.


We do not wish to alarm anyone, but the diagnosis of a person with the Ebola virus in the Continental United States could be a dream come true for the Ward Churchill faction of the American left.
The thinking of this particular group of deranged loons goes like this: Ebola is a disease that kills poor African black folks, so "Big Pharma" doesn't care about it. But if it started hitting the evil white folks in America, research would be put into overdrive to find a vaccine or a cure.
Seriously, that's how these nuts think. And one of them may be a Texas health worker who may decide to let one of the contacts this Ebola patient had contact with slip the dragnet and go out and start an outbreak in this country.
We are not saying it's happening.  But it is possible. Horrifyingly possible.


GENTLE READERS, we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop see by the spike in pageviews that you have been curious to see what we have to say about the resignation of the most corrupt, lawless, and partisan Attorney General in this Republic's history.
Our first reaction of course was: Hallelujah, it's about fucking time. But after that settled, we said: Wait one damn minute.
While it is good that Obama's main henchman - his consiglieri so to speak - will soon be gone, he is staying on until a suitable replacement can be snuck past the Senate. As always with this gang of criminals, there's something rotten afoot. Do remember to vote next month.

Friday, September 12, 2014


WE HAVE BEEN QUITE BUSY WORKING FOR A LIVING and since we don't have the luxury of time for either golf or blogging, (and since we STILL haven't found a suitable laptop at a decent price and have to sit here in the library) we haven't posted in quite some time.
Honestly, Gentle Readers, we are grateful that a small corps of you hang on and check up on us from time to time. We know that many of you - including some folks in Ukraine - have been checking in to see what we might have to say about this situation or that. And so much has been happening that it's difficult to keep track of it all.
But from Ukraine to the ISIS savagery and around the world, the bad guys are on the move, and they are taking advantage of the fact that we Americans were fools enough to choose an ineffectual bumbling twit who would rather play at golf than face and deal with the real problems facing America and the world.
It's not as if we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop didn't try and stop it. We vote like hell in every election. And we will do that again in two months, and try to take the quack out of this lame duck. America is not dead, friends. Not even with President Ebola in the White House.